Scourgebound
The Draenei perched herself in the arms of a bleeding tree, her glowing eyes watching the heavy moon sink beneath the horizon. The Eastern Plaguelands cackled and mewled at the brightness of the pasty moon as if to speed its descent. Even the tree Yanwyyae Gios sat upon groaned, desperate for some creature to relieve it of the growing pressure of waxy, infected sap. A chilling wind swept over the dead forest, forcing her to pull her long, dusky cloak around her body. It had been over a week since Yanwyyae had come with her friend and fellow bounty hunter, Usion Dawnwatcher, to track down their prey. Usion, typical of a Night Elf, had been swallowed up by the night when she paused to investigate a gnarled root. A moment later she returned to the visible world, gently holding a tattered piece of cloth. An armor plated hand motioned quietly for the hunter to come down. Yanwyyae took a last look at the retreating moon, dropping silently to the forest floor. The Plagueland’s groans stopped, drifting with the retreating breeze. Yanwyyae paused, the sound of her heartbeat and clattering quiver deafening. Usion waited a moment, her long ears perking slightly. Hearing nothing, she turned back to the marksman Draenei, showing a finely stitched shred of runecloth. “He’s been here, found this snagged on a root.” Yanwyyae took it, thumbing it gently before smelling the red mark. “Blood, human by the color and odor.” Usion nodded, taking the scrap back. “Root may have hooked him in the leg.” Yanwyyae nodded, shuffling herself over to the scene. There were a series of footsteps in the dusty ground, patches of mold torn and trampled where Amon Doyal was injured. There were several other, smaller tracks trailing to the side and behind. “Children, the children are still with him.” A low snuffling sound came from behind Usion, her eyes widening. She put a finger to her lips, Yanwyyae lowering herself into the leafy mud. As the Night Elf faded into the mists a pair of shambling corpses collapsed near the tree, flies buzzing angrily. Their flesh was thickened with plague, massive sores and scabs distorting their forms. Incredible, jagged teeth had erupted out of the jaws, pushing out any weak, smaller predecessors. They chewed on gory, elongated claws, stopping to allow their long tongues to slither from their maws. They tasted blood and shuffled to the root to gnaw on it, shoving each other violently out of the way. Yanwyyae shuddered, pondering for a moment on their diet. And then it struck her. “The wound may have already…” Usion had realized it herself as well, leaping out from the darkness onto the infested corpse. “Now!” Her arm coiled around the neck of the undead, her other blade plunging between its ribs and through the soft, rotting flesh. The other monstrosity lunged forward to defend its companion, Yanwyyae quickly sinking an arrow into its skull. It struck with a resounding thump, the corpse writhing before crashing to the ground. Usion also fell to the earth, the still corpse beneath her, but refused to move. Both listened, their ears burning for some sound, some indicator that their position was compromised. Silence hummed in the night air. Usion shuffled first, flicking the blood off the elven blades with a snap of the wrist. “We have to hurry! That wound is going to draw the attention of half the forest!” Yanwyyae grew a shade whiter. She picked up her gear, and broke out into a run. The light of the moon was waning. ----- ----- ----- ----- “My babies, he took my babies!” Regania Doyal wept, clinging to Usion’s polished, gleaming armor. The woman’s greasy, black hair was tied up into a loose bun, strands lazily bouncing when she spoke. The smooth, gentle curve of her lips contrasted with piercing brown eyes and dark, thin eyebrows. Her skin was pale, leeched of any color. Her robes, too, were drab and gray but carefully sewn together. The sun had retreated from the presence of Duskwood, leaving the citizens of Darkshire to dwell within a haze of fog and shadow. Yanwyyae peered at the woman, studying the sun-forsaken mother that had traveled up into Lakeshire from the south. It was the height of a scorching afternoon, the sun here raining down with a terrible fury. The stable masters brushed away at irritated horses, the stalls carrying out a noisome humidity. Both Yanwyyae and Usion both decided to take shelter beneath the massive bridge that spanned across the lake. Insects buzzed lazily in the trees surrounding the town. The townspeople had directed the woman under the bridge, unwilling to deal with her panic in such temperature. Yanwyyae laid back, relaxed, pretending not to listen. Usion, though, seemed intent on figuring out every detail, to Yanwyyae’s chagrin. The pale, chattering woman took a moment to bring herself under control, the crying bringing a flush of color to her face. “He took them! By the Light, he took them away up north!” Yanwyyae groaned, putting the back of her hand to her eyes. “We’re only taking local contracts.” The woman’s face drew long and hopeless, but Usion gently put an arm on her shoulder. “Normally, yes, but perhaps we can do something to help.” “Thank you! My name is Regania Doyal.” The woman said. “My husband, Amon has taken my babies! I need your help, please.” Usion frowned. The desperate, sincere tone of the woman was beginning to sink into the Night Elf’s conscience. Yanwyyae, now traveling with her friend and business partner for a few years, could spot that frown from a mile away. Or, once, feel it come two stories down in the Stormwind Inn’s pub. “I don’t think we should.” Yanwyyae interjected. “As I stated we’re only doing regional work. We will be passing into Darkshire in a few weeks, depending on demand.” Usion glared at her friend bitterly. “How could be so heartless? Her children need help!” Perhaps sensing Yanwyyae’s reluctance, Regania began weeping uncontrollably. Usion gently rubbed Regania’s shoulders. “Yanwyyae, please. This won’t be a repeat of the Stranglethorn Incident, I promise.” Yanwyyae put both hands to her face, rubbing away the tension. “They almost took my fingers.” The woman crawled over on her hands and knees over to Yanwyyae, who stiffened and sat up. She held an arm up defensively, but the woman put a clammy hand on it. “I feel goodness in your soul. Your people, they are blessed by the light. Courage and compassion, these things I see still in your eyes.” Yanwyyae, stunned, could only gape at this woman whose eyes seem to peer right through her flesh. She could feel her own heart soften, a sigh passing her lips. “Fine, we’ll go. Usion, take down her information. I’m going to go purchase some supplies.” Walking her way up the bank, Yanwyyae made a beeline for the pub. Ordering a few drinks she took a seat in a shaded corner. Usion came in several minutes after, flushed in the face. The draenei quaffed mead with relish. “Yanwyyae, what are you doing? I was looking all over the shops and couldn’t find you.” Usion huffed, wiping her brow. “You don’t want to really help that woman.” Yanwyyae said, slamming down her mug. Several people in the pub stopped talking for a moment, then resumed their conversations. Usion snarled, putting her plated gloves on the table. “Not this again.” Yanwyyae leaned forward. “How much did she offer?” Putting a hand over her eye and rubbing it, Usion leaned back. “Look, it doesn’t matter.” Yanwyyae sighed loudly, taking another sip. “No, you’re right. Hopefully enough to cover our trip.” “It was about one thousand.” “You have to be kidding me.” “No, I’m not.” “I don’t like it.” “That’s a lot of money, Yan.” “It’s a lot of trouble, is what it sounds like. So how much of it was up front?” “Well, the one thousand is up front.” Yanwyyae poured more mead into her cup. “No, we’re not doing this. Sounds like a damned scam, why do you think we’re the first ones to accept this?” “It’s about the children.” Usion pleaded. “No! It’s about the money!” Yanwyyae kicked back a mouthful of alcohol. “It’s not about the journey, or the discovery, or spending time together anymore for Light’s sake. You just want to know where your next gold piece is coming from.” Usion sat silently, then stood to walk away. Looking into her glass, Yanwyyae groaned. “Stop. Go get your things ready. We’re leaving at sunset.” Making a sideways glance, the Night Elf paused mid-step. “Why?” “Because something tells me some children really do need us.” Yanwyyae scooted back her seat, paying for her drinks. “Money or not we still need to do the right thing.” Usion pondered for a moment, grabbing up her gauntlets, then smiled softly. “Yeah.” ----- ----- ----- ----- Yanwyyae skid down the ravine, her hooves slashing at the muddy sides, desperate to catch her footing again. The dead were moving in the shadows, the sounds of grinding, rusty metal mingling with the wet pops of rotting joints. Usion gasped at the top of the ridge, the sound of clattering plate telling Yanwyyae she was about to have a partner in her misstep. A rock cracked into her leg on the way, sending her top half spiraling downward to the bottom. There was a soft, slushy sound as she landed in a loamy, corpse filled ditch. Usion soon came tumbling down afterwards, nearly landing on top of the hunter. A ringing sound filled Yanwyyae’s ears, the world shifting as the pressure in her head increased. She stared at the earth, dazed. “Yanwyyae!” Usion panted, tugging at the cloth wrapped around her neck. She lifted her visor, crawling over to the Draenei. “Come on, we’re almost there.” The Night Elf grabbed Yanwyyae by the arm, and after struggling to find their footing paused to take a breath. The stench was terrible, thick and soggy with rot. Yanwyyae struggled over to the walls, setting her hands into a spongy mud that sloshed down to her hooves. She clawed at it a few moments, trying to find something solid. She gave an exasperated groan. “There’s no way we’re going to make it back up.” Usion nodded, taking a few steps forward though the soupy mixture. Slippery skin and ribs made the first few steps precarious. Yanwyyae took another rattling breath, turning to her partner. “We can’t rush this, otherwise we’ll fall behind.” Yanwyyae raised her hands to the sky, focusing on the top of a nearby tree. Expanding her consciousness, he mind began to see and perceive the surrounding terrain from that vantage point. Usion watched impatiently, her form bouncing back and forth, waiting for Yanwyyae’s mind to return. Yanwyyae snapped back, blinking several times and shaking her head. “This ravine actually may have saved us time, but we need to pace our movements.” Usion nodded, grabbing Yanwyyae’s hand. They both took a step forward, then another. Their pace increased, each step avoiding sucking mud or a broken rib jutting from the earth. The ravine began to fan out and slope up gently but was choking with fresh corpses. The few that held to strings of life only managing to shudder. Usion and Yanwyyae forced their way up, panic slowly seeping into their hearts. They collapsed at the top, fighting back waves of nausea. A voice entered her mind, quietly at first, like the gentle whisper. “Suffering and pain surround you. End the suffering, Bleakheart. Silence the pained.” Yanwyyae stood, taking deep breaths, pulling out her bow. She notched an arrow. Usion turned, looking up at Yanwyyae. “Yan? What are you doing?” The arrow flew, reaching back out to the dying man in the ravine. The ringing sound slowly began to subside. Usion stared wide-eyed, then scrambled to her feet as another arrow struck another of the dying. Her strong hands grabbed Yanwyyae’s right arm as she drew back another arrow, pulling her slightly. Yanwyyae turned, yanking her arm out of her friend’s hands and throwing her body weight against the Night Elf. Caught off guard, Usion tumbled to the ground and listened to the whisper of the bow as it quieted another. “Yanwyyae, stop it!” The hunter had already notched another arrow, but held it. Usion swept her feet under the Draenei’s hooves, sending her crashing to the ground and the arrow into night sky. The warrior clambered over and set her armor’s weight on Yanwyyae, her arms pinning her to the moldy earth. “Listen! It’s too late, they’re dead. They’re as good as dead Yanwyyae.” “She cares for her own life only.” Yanwyyae growled, tears rolling down her face, struggling desperately. The moans of the dead and dying in Ammen Vale whispered in her ears, echoed in her mind. She drew her leg back and gave Usion a thundering kick in the kidney, sending her back sprawling and coughing. Freed, the hunter rushed over to the swarm of corpse maggots, drawing her axe out. A larger, engorged one had found a young child and had already begun to draw its legs into its maw. Usion staggered back to her feet and watched helplessly as the Draenei buried her weapon into the monster’s head until it stopped moving. Satisfied, Yanwyyae knelt near the dying boy. “He is in great pain. Allow him to die in peace.” The boy wore a dingy, muddy white tabard with a red flame. His face was contorted in pain, his skin taking a grayish hue. He could only gurgle, his lips and throat parched and cracked. The hunter mumbled something in an ancient tongue, her hands gesturing in the air. The presence of the Light caused a cacophony in the forests all around as Yanwyyae drew the Naaru’s gift from her soul. The air smelled clean for a moment, the boy’s eyes growing wide as the Draenei touched his face. A gently glowing, blue seal hovered near Yanwyyae’s forehead. Yanwyyae smiled, her cheeks wet with tears. “What is your name?” The boy stammered for a moment as the Light coursed through him. His voice was harsh and gristly, managing five words. “Borwith of Tyr’s Hand, miss.” “You’ll be okay, Borwith.” Yanwyyae whispered, pressing her forehead against his. “You’ll be okay.” The boy smiled, his breathing normalized. Yanwyyae drew him up from the muck and held him until his last breath left his lips with a sigh. “At last, he rests.” ----- ----- ----- ----- “Usion, wake up.” The Night Elf blinked a few times and rolled over, peering out of her tent. She kept a large fur hide wrapped around her body to protect against the cold of Dun Morogh. Snow poured heavily outside, draping everything in glistening white. There was a crispness to the air, and the smell of burning wood and hot, cooking food sent a smile to her lips. Yanwyyae came to the tent’s entrance, covered in heaps of fur and a metal plate of hot, buttered albacore with slices of old, spiced bread. Usion took the dish, thanking Yanwyyae before dipping the bread in the buttered sauce. “You know, I think this is why I bring you along.” Yanwyyae chuckled, shaking her head. “Thank you, good to know I’m good for something.” Usion followed her back to the campfire. It was an old site, the fire pit was quite large, dug deep and coated in black. Logs were set all around the campsite, each had the back worn down to the smooth, polished wood. Yanwyyae went back to roasting a small rack of boar ribs, sitting down near the fire and putting a cup in her lap. She turned the ribs over the flame, pausing to taste the liquid in the cup, then poured a touch more Rhapsody malt into it before brushing it on the meat. Banuu, her massive, brown bear tromped over in the snow, smelling the cooking ribs. Yanwyyae gave him a stern look. “Ah! Not until I’m done!” The beast groaned impatiently, waddling back into the snowy forest for something to munch on in the meantime. After brushing some snow off its nose with its paw it gave one last forlorn look, then disappeared into the brush. “You got a letter.” Yanwyyae said, putting the cooking brush back into the cup. She reached into her shirt and pulled out a dirty, stained paper sealed with crimson wax. “An owl brought it.” Usion gingerly took the letter from Yanwyyae, then slowly removed the seal and unrolled it. Her eyes grew wide as the light of her eyes passed over the scroll. Yanwyyae continued basting her ribs in silence, listening to the pop and crackle of the cooking fat. Usion reached the end of the letter, then read it again about half way before pressing it against her chest. “It’s from my husband.” Yanwyyae continued rotating the ribs on the spit, somewhat distracted. “Mm. How is he?” Usion rolled up the letter, then opened it again before answering. “He wants me to come home, to come back to Darkshore.” Yanwyyae turned her head, then smiled. “Well, I don’t see why not. After we get the Doyal children-” “No, Yan.” Usion said, picking up the plate but not eating anything. She remained silent for several minutes. “His, his brother died out there in Felwood studying the corrupted moonwells. He wants me to come home.” The night elf emphasized the last words, then looked down at her food. Yanwyyae lathered another coat of rhapsody beer on the ribs. “I’m sorry to hear his loss.” “He said he was sorry for letting me go, for what he did.” Usion bemoaned, the chilly, cool air suddenly feeling a touch frosty and unwelcoming. Yanwyyae frowned, then gingerly removed the spit from over the fire. She ate in silence, not looking at her friend until she finished her meal and threw the bones out into the snow for Banuu to come back to. Usion spoke up. “I’m thinking I should go home.” Yanwyyae hid a hurt look. “I don’t know what to say. This seems somewhat abrupt.” Taking a moment, Usion looked at her husband’s handwriting. “I miss him.” “I imagine you do.” Yanwyyae said, withdrawn. “You could always complete this bounty on your own. You’d have the whole bounty to yourself, as well.” Usion mused. “It’s not about the bounty.” Yanwyyae snarled back. She fumed inside, taking a deep, shaky breath before gesturing towards the mountains. “Well, Ironforge is right there a few miles up the mountain. Why don’t you just hire one of the damned Wildhammers to fly you to Menethil Harbor.” Yanwyyae sat straight up, holding back tears. Usion remained quiet, fiddling with the letter before rolling it up and putting it into her waistband. She stood up, sitting down next to Yanwyyae and leaning her head on her friend’s shoulder. “Thandus likes you, Yanwyyae, but he doesn’t feel safe with me in this line of work. He’d rather have me at the docks, protecting our homeland.” “I see, well...” Yanwyyae bit her lip, trying to compose herself. She reached down into herself and drew up a smile. “Well, perhaps you could return home for a little while. Get some rest and see your family and people. Then you could come back and we’ll travel again.” “Yan, I don’t see that happening if I return home. You are my friend, but my husband and my home… I miss them. We have enough gold saved, we could go home, together.” Yanwyyae stood and began clasping on her armor, shaking off any collected snow on her form. “Usion, don’t bother. You already know what I’m going to say.” The Night Elf thumped her heels into the log in frustration, putting her forehead into her hands. “I don’t want to lose touch with you.” Yanwyyae turned, a cold look in her eye. “No? You, the very one that spoke about escaping from ancient society and traditions. Discovering new lands together and making our own name for ourselves, fighting to help those abandoned and in despair. And you come to me now, after everything we’ve accomplished, expecting me to return from the very thing you were escaping? Where’s my husband to return to? Where is my home?” Usion clenched her hands into fists, Yanwyyae screaming out into the frozen wasteland. “He’s dead and my Argus is lost.” She gave a sharp whistle, Banuu lumbering out of the forest in anticipation of meaty delights. Yanwyyae knelt down and fed it a handful of greasy fat which it lapped up. Usion pushed herself off the log as Yanwyyae came back. “Damn it, Yan!” Yanwyyae started, taking a step back as the Night Elf threw a punch that sent the Draenei reeling. Banuu watched, visibly confused. “You’re not the only one that’s lost something! Maybe I do want to go home! I love you Yan, but after all these years I’m tired.” The hunter could only stare incredulously. She held a hand to her face, Usion relaxing her stance. “I’m tired Yanwyyae. I’m tired of worrying about dying out here, alone without my husband. I’m tired of worrying about never being able to start a family. And to have my husband call out for me, to think he’s suffering, it hurts so much. And if that means I have to leave you behind, then so be it.” Yanwyyae flinched, now left speechless herself. Usion held her hands out in desperation. “It can’t be like it was. Time has changed things.” “You have something left to lose.” Yanwyyae uttered hollowly, lost in thought. “It’s just-” Usion reached a hand out, but the hunter shook her head. “That’s exactly it, friend. I understand.” Taking some ice from the ground, she stuffed it in her cheek and pressed her hand to her jaw. “Let us finish this last journey.” “Yanwyyae…” Usion said, pleading. “No, these children… they have something to lose. Should I die, no one would save them. There is a family in despair.” Usion looked up to the heavens, closing her eyes. “Okay.” “Come on Banuu. Let’s gear up… We have a ways to travel north. There’s a job to finish, and then you can go home. You are right, I’m sure your husband misses you terribly. So let’s get this done, okay?” Yanwyyae smiled warmly at Usion, who returned it with a nod. ----- ----- ----- ----- A storm within the Plaguelands is a storm like no other in all of Azeroth. The tides of undeath have brought a pervading cold to everything in the land, but the sky above bleeds hot, obscuring the morning daybreak. Terrordale smelled of hot, soaked wood and of putrid meat. The thunder roiled in the heavens, mingling with the rattling snorts of the dead boars in the dilapidated meat farms. The corpses of the twitching nerubian guardians leaked into the earth, legs scattered like broken twigs across the ground. Usion lay on her back, resting upon the stone cobbled path near a house, panting heavily. Yanwyyae sat on the muddy earth, touching the thick wounds in Banuu’s hide. The nerubian poison had seeped thick into his blood and the bear’s breathing was becoming shallow. Yanwyyae fought back tears, Usion herself biting her lip, but keeping to herself. The bear’s small, blinking eyes looked into Yanwyyae’s, his muscles shivering. “Hold on Banuu, hold on boy.” The bear gave a snort, his round, wet nose starting to drip a hazy mucus. Yanwyyae bit her lip, evoking a cleansing spell. The wounds began to close, but the voracious infection in his body tore them open again. Her stomach soured, attempting again and again to mend Banuu. It attempted to stand up on its paws again, the wounds opening further. “No! No Banuu!” Yanwyyae screamed before the bear’s weight brought it crashing back down. The mending wasn’t working, and scabby, pustules began to line the cuts in the hide. She reached down and rested her forehead on Banuu’s, rubbing his snout. “It’ll be okay boy.” Usion stood suddenly, walking briskly into a house. Yanwyyae rubbed Banuu’s ears, humming an ancient Draeneic children’s tune. The bear gazed at his friend, blood trickling out of his nose. Yanwyyae put a hand gently on his head, unable to stop the heaves in her chest. Banuu’s entire body relaxed, and was still. “Banuu?” Yanwyyae desperately gasped between sobs. “Banuu?” She screamed, clawing at her hair. Usion, huddled in a corner in an abandoned living room, threw off her helmet and covered her ears. Yanwyyae stood, drawing what little life she could around her. The powerful magics swirled in her hands, her eyebrows furrowed as she channeled for several seconds. The spell erupted, flowing into the bear as a column of light, her eyes expectant. The rain pattered on the nearby homes, drumming across roofs and stone. Banuu didn’t move. Yanwyyae shook her head, watching the infection continue to spread even past death. She wept quietly as the storm raged above. Usion came out of the house some time later, kneeling down. “Yanwyyae.” Yanwyyae lifted her head, her eyes growing wide. Behind the Night Elf stood an incredible, skeletal monstrosity engulfed in an intensely cold, blue mist. Rich cloth was draped over its body, chains continually in motion around its form. It hovered without any feet or even legs, and it spoke in a demonically civil tone. Though the image was merely in her mind the grip of terror was all too real. “''Yanwyyae, it is a pleasure to finally meet the Bleakheart.” ----- ----- ----- ----- The Exodar screamed as it began to tear apart time and space, the screams and shouts of Draenei coming from every hall. Crystals flickered and shattered, sending blades flying. Yanwyyae ducked under a table, hearing the sharp thud as its surface was pierced. “Guso, damn it, what is happening?” “O’ros is unable to keep the crystalline resonances under control, the adamantine breakers are failing across the board!” The larger, male draenei was furiously working with the arcane sigils hovering near him. Scrambling to the other side of the terminal Guso worked quickly. Yanwyyae shoved a piece of metal into a broken circuit, the sigils returning with a hum. Yanwyyae nodded, standing and turning to the control panel. “Kael’s forces have sabotaged the core stabilizers; we’re losing mana across the entire matrix.” Guso nodded and laughed, sweating heavily. “Oh, you think that’s the best part? We’re getting a cascade of radiation from the dimensional slip.” Pushing a button on the side of the console, Yan leaned towards the communicator. The crystal sphere hummed with her words. “Deego, this is Yanwyyae. Gios and I are unable to shield the vessel and we have a cascade inbound.” Another voice crackled. “You two need to get deeper into the ship. With the conduits shot there’s no place to transfer the mana output and it’ll go straight into the hull.” Guso closed his eyes as the transmission suddenly cut. There was a buzzing, ozone smell in the air. “We need to go.” Both Draenei abandoned their posts, rushing down the corridors as the hull of the Exodar groaned. The central room was crowded with Draenei men, women, and children. Yanwyyae’s eyes searched the crowd. “Guso, do you see my husband anywhere?” Panting, he scanned over the myriad of clamoring people, but his attention was elsewhere. “No.” “Helsan! Helsan, can you hear me?” Yanwyyae began to shout into the sea of cries. She pushed her way through the crowd desperately, but there was no answer. The sound of the groaning hull was replaced with an ear shattering crack, the roof above starting to rain down debris on the panicking families. Guso came rushing past two soldiers, grabbing Yanwyyae’s shoulders. “Helsan, he hasn’t come back from east sector with the other paladins.” Breaking into a run, Yanwyyae pushed past the others, throwing them to the sides. She could see the massive, arched doorway into the eastern halls, but getting there wouldn’t be easy. Many of the soldiers trying to calm the people attempted to grab at the hunter, shouting for her to desist. Wriggling out of their grasps she grabbed the door frame and swung inside. The elevator immediately activated and took her down to the next level. The cracked platform hummed angrily, sparking in protest as it descended. Here the sounds of shattering metal were loudest and the lights flickered maddeningly. The floor was littered with broken glass and blood, several burned bodies on the sides of the halls. Plumes of scorching mana clouds burst from the walls, forcing Yanwyyae to crawl on the ground. She could hear the sounds of a struggle. Moving faster the sounds were louder but the voices were muffled. Finally past the corridor she pushed into the next room. There she saw her husband holding a blood elf up by the throat, his crest cut deeply. Blood leaked into one eye, his muscles shaking. There were cries of children in the room. Looking to the corner several draenei children held one of their own, an arrow in his chest. The distraction was enough. Before her husband could warn her Yanwyyae felt a leather-bound hand grasp her forehead and yank her backwards. Falling to her knees the assassin was quick to press the tip of his dagger into her skin, right over the jugular. His voice was cocky and smooth, and Yanwyyae could feel his disgusting smirk. “Put him down.” Yanwyyae writhed, watching her husband. “You disgusting monsters are going to get us all killed.” “That’s the idea.” He replied, nodding again. “Put him down.” Helsan closed both his eyes, opening his grip. The blood elf in his hands crumpled to the ground, apparently having gone unconscious. “Now let her go.” “Oh, I have absolutely no inten-” There was an incredible shattering sound as several crystals broke off on the outer structure and fell to the ground below, sending the Exodar reeling. The blood elf holding her captive shifted his grip ever so slightly. Yanwyyae, sensing his own distraction grabbed his thumb and pressed into the joint. Reaching behind herself and grabbing a handful of his hair, she threw him over her shoulder. Helsan leapt forward, throwing his weight on the already winded blood elf. He slamming his fists into the villain’s forehead until he seemed to stop moving then tossed him aside. Controlling himself once more, he looked at his wife. “Are you okay?” She threw herself in his arms. “Yes! But we have to get out of here, quickly!” “Indeed, but we must save the children! These beasts have already claimed a life. How they could do such horrible things, I do not know.” He shook his head, appalled. Standing, he shouted out. “Hurry, children, go!” Yanwyyae held her arms out, the weeping children rushing to meet her. One stayed behind, holding the dead boy. “My little brother isn’t moving.” Helsen picked the boy up, kneeling down. Holding him to his chest, the light cascaded through his body, ebbing and flowing into the child. For a few moments the suffocating terror left the room as the boy’s soul was guided back. The child was yet unconscious, but began breathing. He smiled at the sister. “Go to that lovely lady there, I’ll take care of him.” The little girl took one last forlorn look at her brother, then paused and looked at the paladin. “Thank you.” There was another deafening crack, the very room rattling. Yanwyyae called out to the girl and directed the child into the hall. Several children were peering into the room, waiting for their savior to come with. Helsen looked up at the ceiling, seeing several large cracks. “There are some sick ones in the back.” Yanwyyae took a step forward, but he stopped her with a shake of his head. He waved at the children. “I’m going to get your sick friends, okay?” Trotting out into the room, the Exodar shifted again but he pressed on. An incredible roar bore through the ship, and then a sudden silence. He stopped, sensing something. The children all screamed. A crack in the ceiling opened, like an incredible maw. A rush of air sent everything in the area flying. The floor groaned, snapping apart into thick shards. He quickly rushed over to one of the makeshift beds, picking up a shivering body. He spun around, the opening above even larger. A white light poured inside the room, the crystals breaking from the Exodar flying into the air gracefully in the distance. The tearing sound cut into her ears as the room itself began to dislodge. Helsan smiled, bathed in sweet sunlight. “Yanw-” With a quiet thud and groan the entire east wing sheared off, the vacuum of air casting him to the wind. A blue sky remained. ----- ----- ----- ----- Usion put a cold gauntlet to Yanwyyae’s face, causing the hunter to flinch. Upon looking once more, the creature was gone. She stood slowly, looking for the presence that yet continued to haunt her, but saw nothing. Usion grabbed her hand. “Come on, Yan, we need to find Doyle if he’s here. That or the records.” A voice slipped into her mind. ''“She will betray you, young hunter. Her selfish greed will be the death of you if not stopped. Search the home of the Whinmans, a gift.” Yanwyyae held her arms around her body, releasing the Night Elf’s hand. They both traveled deeper into the fog, stepping over the myriad of corpses about. Usion pondered a moment, her eyes searching for the steeple of the town hall. She spoke up, attempting to get Yanwyyae’s mind on something else. “How much do you think the deeds are worth?” Yanwyyae shrugged, looking behind her. The mist obscured the remains of Banuu, leaving a cold feeling sitting in the Draenei’s stomach. Usion remained silent, unsure of what to say. The rain slowly began to subside, allowing the obfuscated homes to reveal themselves once more. Yanwyyae paused in front of an ashy house, a small wooden toy soldier buried partially in the dirt. On its back was carved the name Cladus Whinman. She gave the toy to Usion, whom looked at it in utter confusion. “What is it?” Yanwyyae stepped over the broken gate to the property, sniffling still. “It’s the Whinman home.” Usion raised a long eyebrow, chasing after Yanwyyae. “Wait! Who? Where are you going?” There was a soft warmth coming from the house. Yanwyyae could feel it soak into her bones, radiating in her horns. A gentle chime echoed in the air. Usion drew her blade, following her partner into the home. The Draenei stopped. “Can you hear it?” Usion stopped, listening carefully, but could only hear the clatter of their armor. “Hear what?” “The song.” A soft heartbeat hummed in the Draenei’s ear, a sense of peace flowing into her heart. Usion looked all about nervously. “Yanwyyae, I don’t hear anything.” Growling, Usion grabbed Yanwyyae by the arm, pulling her back. “Yanwyyae! What is wrong with you?” The voice returned once more, soothing. “Pay no attention to her, child. I am Balzaphon, and I shall watch over you. Go upstairs, I wish you to see what is in store for you.” Yanwyyae nodded, further infuriating Usion. The hunter turned towards her companion, touching her face. “It’s okay, come with me.” “No, Yanwyyae. I’ve seen enough of these Plaguelands. I’m going to the town hall and getting those documents. Then we’re leaving.” Usion said. Balzaphon spoke again in her mind. “See, young one. She cares but for herself. But I know what is in your heart. Now, go on, please. Worry not about your ‘friend’.” Feeling the warmth again, she slowly climbed the stairs and entered the room to her right. The warped, wooden walls had grayed over time, though the floor was worn. Generations of children had come here, down the steps for dinner and back up to play. A shaft of daylight drifted into the room, though, illuminating a small rocking chair. An old, infested teddy bear sat in the seat, droopy but still in one piece despite the years. In its lap, though, was what appeared at first to be a thin rod. “Go on, take it.” Balzaphon urged once more, almost delighted. Approaching it from an angle, Yanwyyae saw it was no mere rod. In fact, it was an arrow, though the craftsmanship of it was incredible. It was stark black, the edges of the razor-sharp arrowhead seeming to glow a golden tinge, as if kissed by the sun. The feather vanes were pristine, precisely shaped and cut. Yanwyyae reached out, picking it up gingerly, images of a dying elven archer flooding her mind. She dared not drop the arrow, instead falling to her knees, gasping for breath. “What is this?” Yanwyyae struggled to breathe, coughing violently. The voice of Balzaphon rumbled in her brain again. “All in due time, but quickly! Your prey has entered my land, I fear your friend may do something drastic.” Yanwyyae dropped the black arrow into her quiver. Outside there was a shout, a man’s shout. Stumbling down the steps Yanwyyae threw herself into the front door, smashing it down. There, sitting in a growing pool of his own blood, sat a human man. His hair and beard were wet and ragged, but his gaze was powerful and for the moment seemed to hold off Usion with it alone. His children were screaming, holding onto their father. Amon Doyle had his blade drawn, an intricately designed shortsword with a crested jewel set into the hilt. A royal blade contrasted with the clothes he wore on his muscled frame, a long cowl and robe were cast into the rain-soaked road. His white shirt was lapping up the crimson wound, pants and boots ratty and torn. His right leg was lightly bandaged, the injury that helped the bounty hunters track him. Usion held her blade steady. The undead creature spoke once again into her mind. “The man, he is innocent! His life must be spared!” Yanwyyae rushed out into the streets, her hooves splashing in the mud. “Wait!” Usion flinched, ignoring her friend’s words. “Quickly! Get the children! This long road will finally end.” Amon sneered at the Night Elf. “You would kill a man before his own children? Many bandits have I faced in my travels but you are the worst kind. Children, children, go into that home! Don’t look, and keep the cowls on. I love you.” He kissed his children on the foreheads, speaking to the younger girl. “Take care of your little brother!” Standing to his feet once again, he circled around and placed himself in front of the door. “She sent you, didn’t she?” Usion did not answer, but Yanwyyae stepped forward. “Yes, yes she did.” Glaring at Yanwyyae, the Night Elf slammed the sword into a nearby fence, shattering it. “We're not here to talk!” “I am no fool!” Amon shouted. “That wretch would take my children!” “As you did?” Usion growled. “May Elune guide my blade!” Leaping at her prey, Usion began hacking at Amon furiously. The human, though, was incredibly skilled with his sword. His movements were familiar, the style of combat tugging at the back of Yanwyyae’s mind. Through the window across the street she could see the children watching, terrified as the battle moved back into the road. Usion whirled her axe in mid-air, bearing it down on the human. Amon blocked the blow of the axe with a well timed parry. “Stop this madness!” “The light of Elune shall never falter! Yanwyyae! Let us finish this, home awaits!” Usion shouted, the thundering in the heavens returning. The voice in Yanwyyae’s head laughed. “See, she yet wishes to abandon you. Her husband draws her away. You have lost so much, Bleakheart. Her moon demon pours rage in her heart! See! She attacks a man of the Light!” “No…” Yanwyyae stammered. In that moment a thundering hammer comes down on Usion’s head from the heavens. Amon lowered his hand, approaching the stunned Night Elf. Yanwyyae could feel the warmth again, the man’s hands raising upwards as the Light channeled through him and closed his wounds. The screams of the dead lashed through the infested forest, reacting to the presence of the Light. “I did not want this!” Amon Doyle grasped the Night Elf, throwing her off balance. The warrior stumbled before collapsing in the mud, the human bringing his foot to bear on her back, pinning her down. “My wife sent you, she-” Shrieking, Usion slammed her fists into the ground and pushed upwards, upending the paladin, sending his blade clattering away. Her face was contorted with rage, her chest heaving. “Yes, she sent me to kill you and save these children from your dark purposes.” Amon could only stare in disbelief. “Dark purposes?” Yanwyyae shouted out to Usion. “Listen to him!” “He has fallen!” Usion growled. Yanwyyae screamed, drawing her bow from her back. She pulled an arrow from her quiver, notching it into position. Whispers flooded her mind, ghosts suddenly seen wandering the streets, unaware of the events in the corporeal world. The dark arrow whispered its dark intents to Yanwyyae. Usion turned to look at her friend, her heart sinking. “Yanwyyae, you would take aim at me?” Yanwyyae felt a tear roll down her cheek, nodding her head slowly. “I won’t let you kill him, Usi. I won’t.” Amon watched nervously, his eyes flicking to his blade, but his hand was still. Usion tightened the grip on her weapons, anger building in her heart. “I don’t understand.” Yanwyyae stayed her shot, an iciness growing in her chest. “He is a man of the Light. If he is guilty he will stand trial and be found as such in Stormwind.” “Indeed, take heed to such words.” Usion shuddered upon hearing the voice, a thick, icy mist beginning to pervade the area. At the heart of the mist, as Yanwyyae remembered in her visions, emerged the Lich, Balzaphon. Both Amon and Usion went pale, a palatable sense of terror thickening the air. The Lich pointed at Usion, the sky growing gray. “Usion Dawnwatcher, comrade of Yanwyyae Gios. Oh, this is quite the situation isn’t it?” Usion peered at Yanwyyae. The lich chuckled. “Oh, yes indeed, I have been in contact with the draenei for quite some time. Oh, do not be surprised, I can read your simple mind quite easily I assure you.” “Betrayer…” Usion hissed. She began to close with Yanwyyae, who began lowering her bow, shaking her head. Amon slammed his gauntlet into the ground, drawing the Night Elf’s attention. “No, don’t listen to him. He is of the Scourge, they cannot be trusted.” He whispered, coughing. “Oh, you are one to speak, dear husband.” A shuffling, robed figure carrying a dead lantern arrived near the home. Pulling back her cowl, Regania revealed herself. Silence pervaded the area, a page of fate in the midst of being turned. Yanwyyae could feel it, once again, that hollow quiet. She could see the moments happening, things slipping out of control. The paladin scrambled to his feet, the sound of his cloth like that of a flag in the wind. Usion’s own armor screeched as her body twisted to face Amon. Regania’s footstep backwards thundered in Yanwyyae’s skull, her husband’s nails scraping the stone. A sloshing sound of mud cried out as his fingers gouged through, wrapping around the metallic handle of his blade. The ring of the sharpened edge cut through the muffled silence. He rushed towards his wife, Usion instinctively lashing out to protect her client. There was a crunch as her axe bit into the back of his head, a gasp of surprise before he went tumbling to the floor. Any warmth and presence a man of the Light offered was immediately extinguished. His children screamed, clawing at the window. “Good. Very good.” Regania snickered, holding the lantern out. The waxy, yellowed candle inside immediately burst to life. Usion dropped both weapons into the road, falling to her hands and knees. The woman walked up to Usion’s prostrated form, gently touching her head. “You did well, and you shall be rewarded. He was a horrible monster indeed.” From deep within the town a slavering ghoul came rushing forward, splattering blood everywhere it went. Within its claws it held a large tome, the edges sealed with a lock. She wandered over to her dead husband, removing a key from a tattered pocket. It slid into the keyhole perfectly, and with a single turn the clasps snapped open. Balzaphon’s eyes watching the lantern keenly. The woman flipped through gleefully, taking out a thin parchment. Usion drew herself up, resting on her knees. She peered at the slavering ghoul, then at the pale woman. “You're one of them.” “Not… quite.” Balzaphon snarled. Regania ignored the lich, smiling at the Night Elf. “This, this is payment. Five thousand gold, an old investment of mine in the Stormwind Bank. Just give this to the teller. The old investor here is dead, but his signature is still worth something, yes?” “I killed him.” Usion mumbled to herself, her eyes drawn to the lantern. “Of course you did. You saved my life.” She smiled, patting the Night Elf’s helmet. “Now, where are the children? Once I have them I'll give you this parchment and you can go home and forget this business.” “Home.” Usion muttered. Yanwyyae shook her head. “No, Usion...” The voice of Balzaphon rattled in her head. “I see no children, for my eyes are veiled with a holy magic as are Regania’s. You and your friend suffer no such handicap. You must stop her, lest the children die.” Usion stood, her spirit broken. Yanwyyae raised her bow, pulling the arrow back. The string, taut, had an almost harmonic quality to it. Regania, sensing trouble, grabbed Usion with an alarmed gasp. Walked over to her weapons, Usion picked them up from the ground. Yanwyyae blinked away stinging tears, readjusting her aim. “Just go home, Usion.” Nodding her head, Usion trudged forward, arms slack. Her words were calm, monotone, and barely audible. “I’m going to get those children, take the money, and go home. I’m going to live comfortably with my husband for many years. I’ll make such wonderful memories. I will play with the children on the docks, maybe fish in a boat with my husband. Make love in the heat of a summer night and fall asleep near someone warm.” “She’s going to kill them.” Yanwyyae said, breathless. “Maybe I’ll just buy the boat and sail on the seas and forget about this. I’m going to go become happy Yanwyyae and find peace.” Returning to the human, Usion stood before Regania. Usion paused, still holding her weapons stiffly. “Yanwyyae?” Yanwyyae took aim. “Yes?” “I’m sorry.” “I know.” ----- ----- ----- ----- Perched upon the crimson cliffs of the devastated Bloodmyst Isle, Yanwyyae peered down the thrashing ocean below through tear-swollen eyes. Thick rivulets surged over the stone, hewing blades from the coarse rock. A bloody haze mingling with the fire of the setting sun sank into the forsaken depths. Her skin felt cold, despite the heavy, hot breeze coming from the forests behind her. She held her wedding cord for a moment longer before releasing it to the voracious seas. Yanwyyae held her breath as it plunged into the waters, imagining a lost hand reaching out to return it. Instead, the sea swelled and burst against the stone, timeless, rhythmic, apathetic. As the waters drew themselves away from the stony shores, she raised a hoof over her little outcrop. “Hey.” An unfamiliar voice broke the reverie. Yanwyyae turned, seeing a white haired Night Elf collapse on her rump, gear rattling like old cans. She recalled her step. The wind whipped at the back of her ears, casting her hair into a halo about her face. The Night Elf looked the Draenei up and down. “You going to throw yourself off?” Yanwyyae stared into the ocean's thrashing gullet. “I don't know.” “It's definitely something to think about. I was thinking about it myself. That, or watch the sun set and wimp out.” Yanwyyae cracked a smile, taking a tentative step back. “Why were you jumping?” “I didn’t say I was going to jump, just think about it.” Nodding, Yanwyyae looked out into the sunset. The pair was silent for several moments, the Draenei's eyes scanning the blistering horizon, golden light cascading off the ruby clouds. “The sky looks like its on fire.” “My great grandfather told me the sky burns red when the souls of the dead grow so angry with the living they set the sky ablaze to remind us we only get one lifetime.” The Night Elf recounted. Yanwyyae pondered on such a concept, though her musings were interrupted. “Of course, he was also centuries old, so obviously the story is sort of stupid anyway.” The two chuckled, Yanwyyae finally deciding to sit down. “Thank you.” “For what?” Yanwyyae dismissed the query. “Why are you here? Really?” The Night Elf sighed, throwing her hands up. “I'll be totally honest, I'm an accursed failure, and that's why I ended up here. I thought I could fight, I even got in an argument with my husband before I left about it. So I burned that bridge, then I attempted to become a Sentinel and failed at that too. So I came here to try commune with some sort of spirit or something, I don't know. I guess I was going to live in the woods for a few months until I stopped feeling mad, then slink home with my tail between my legs. What about you?” Yanwyyae went quiet, the sound of the crashing waves spilling around her ears. Words pooled in her head and remained there, unwilling to reciprocate her new companion's talkativeness. The death and carnage Draenor bore witness to was too vast, too unfathomable, too intangible for words. She struggled to say anything, eyes watering. “I'm lost and I...” Yanwyyae felt her throat clench. “And I have nobody left to find me.” “Hey, I found you.” The Night Elf smiled genuinely, eyes bright. “I haven't been here long, but I know you and your people have had it rough, really rough. I think us meeting here means something. Look, my husband is pouting over my brother in law being stationed in some felhole, so I'm not going home to listen to him mope and I'm not getting a military gig. But, damn it, I can swing a sword still. I say you and me, we team up, get out there, and we just find our place. You and me. “A change of scenery would be nice.” Yanwyyae murmured. “I'm a practiced hunter and marksman.” “I can see it in your shoulders and arms! I bet you’re good with a bow.” Yanwyyae quashed memories of stalking orcs in foggy, humid, fungal swamps. “Lethal.” “Let’s get started then, we’ll grab what stuff you have and leave first thing tonight.” ----- ----- ----- ----- Regania’s eyes went wide. The arrow pierced the armor of Usion Dawnweaver, the razor-tipped head of the arrow piercing through and out of her chest. Regania shrieked, feeling the bite of the projectile as the tip exited Usion’s torso, pushing away the Night Elf. Usion managed to clumsily turn around and look into Yanwyyae’s eyes before falling on her side into the street. Regania panted, touching the wound that immediately began to leak out a rich crimson. “Damn it!” Cringing and snarling, she grabbed onto a nearby fence for support. “What, what did you do to me?” Yanwyyae started at her, eyes cold. The Lich cackled. “The arrow sitting in Usion’s heart once belonged to Sylvanus Windrunner. Indeed, it was one of many she carried upon her first death, and since, the quiver has been emptied. Lost to the ages.” Regania whimpered. “No, no, you can’t do this to me! Children! Children! Come to your mother!” An arrow flew from Yanwyyae’s bow, thudding loudly in the woman’s leg. She shrieked, grabbing her thigh and falling to the ground. “No! This wasn’t supposed to happen! Ras Frostwhisper! He will vouch for me!” Yanwyyae steadied another shot. The Lich ignored the archer, continuing to speak as if nothing particular was happening. “Indeed, he has. The Lich King has kept a very, very close eye on you and is displeased with Frostwhisper’s loose tongue. His own demise is near. Your actions have compromised the school. It will be purged, I assure you.” Regania fell, attempting to scramble away. An arrow hissed through the air, piercing her other leg. Balzaphon put his hand up, halting another shot from the Draenei’s bow. “Yanwyyae, it is the order of the Kel’Thuzhad himself to end the life of this traitor to the Eastern Plague Legions and Scourge itself.” Regania’s open wounds began to bleed black, her body quivering in pain. “Children, my children…” “Silence, hag. Your attempts to subvert the Lich King’s blessings and take the title of Lich on your own is blasphemous. You have brought this upon yourself. Final death is upon you, for not even in undeath will this world be burdened with your sin.” Yanwyyae looked at her dead friend, the arrow itself having turned the color of blood. Balzaphon nodded to the archer. “Strike true Yanwyyae! Fire from the very pit of your soul and murder this woman, this very vile creature that has cost you… so… much.” “NO!” Regania pulled both arrows, scrambling down the road as best she could manage. Yanwyyae could feel her heart grow cold. The Lich stood next to her, her flesh feeling numb from the proximity. “Will you take this cup, Bleakheart?” She popped her shoulder, watching the woman crawl away. The cold, lifeless feeling of the grave gripped her heart. Contempt and spite festered in her soul, but for once, she felt free. “I've truly lost everything.” “Indeed! But now, you have everything to gain!” Yanwyyae let loose a slow, careful volley, firing until Regania could bear to move no longer. Kneeling next to the fallen body of Usion, the draenei picked up the blade she once wielded. Finally reaching exhaustion, Regania could only pant as the hunter sat next to her. The gurgling screams continued for several minutes as Yanwyyae slowly ended Regania’s life. The Lich watched the proceedings carefully and applauded. “Good. This will serve as a warning.” Yanwyyae the Bleakheart, mused aloud. “What of her soul, could she return as a specter?” “The arrow you pierced her with, Bleakheart, is cursed. It consumed her very soul.” The Lich responded, admiring her handiwork. “And Usion’s?” “Oh, no, you took the life of your friend. The curse is a potent, complex thing. For an archer to use the arrow to slay a friend, that was a powerful act. Usion is now one with that arrow.” The Balzaphon indicated to the body of Usion, the arrow still lodged in her chest. Bleakheart went to the body, pulling the crimson arrow out slowly. The Lich raised a hand. “There is one more thing, Bleakheart.” “What is your bidding?” The Lich paused, quite pleased. “I have taken it up myself to make you an agent of the Scourge, but your loyalties are to be tested further. That arrow, should it ever draw your own heartsblood, will bind with your soul and subvert you to the everlasting will of the Lich King. You will gain untold founts of power, but only when the arrow has satiated itself. “Great evils lurk in our midsts, ancient gods wish to rise up.” The Lich said. “You will be an extension of my will, a weapon of the Lich King. Prick your flesh upon the arrow. Fear not, only your heartsblood will suffice.” Pulling down the thick cuff of her glove, Yanwyyae drew the razor sharp arrowhead across her forearm. Unconsciously she carved until a seal lay in her flesh. It bled little, sending icy pulses through her arm. The blood in the seal froze solid and remained, the surrounding flesh numbing. The feeling sank into her chest, as if she had emptied out her body’s cavities. The screams of the damned echoed in her mind and she realized in that moment, her own voice was amongst them. “Now our work truly begins.” Category:Short Stories Category:Events